<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>For Him. by boppgoestheweasel</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26871868">For Him.</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/boppgoestheweasel/pseuds/boppgoestheweasel'>boppgoestheweasel</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Clone High</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Bisexual JFK (Clone High), Crying, F/M, Grief/Mourning, Hurt/Comfort, JFK is Sad, JFK is in love with Ponce, Joan cares, Joan comforts our boy, M/M, Mentions of Suicide, Post-Prom but things weren't frozen, and I mean really sad, but a small tw because its mentioned??, but now he can't express his feelings, neither of them are ready for a relationship, no actual suicide though, sort of ooc but we don’t talk about that, they just care about eachother, they’re not actually together in this, this is pretty sad but it has a happy-ish ending</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-10-07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-10-07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 01:09:25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,408</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26871868</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/boppgoestheweasel/pseuds/boppgoestheweasel</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>JFK knows how he feels for Ponce, but now it's too late to do anything about it. As he realizes this, he distances himself from his friends, and Joan gets really worried about her friend when he doesn't call her like he usually does. </p>
<p>So maybe she goes to his house to comfort him because she's positive something is wrong.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>JFK &amp; Joan of Arc (Clone High), JFK/Ponce "Poncey" de León (Clone High)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>5</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>119</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>For Him.</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>hey guys! I'm currently writing a Clone High Corpse Bride AU, so since it's almost done, I decided to put a small oneshot out there about two of my favorite characters :) I hope you like it!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Yeah, JFK and Joan had hooked up the night of the prom. But that didn’t mean Jack didn’t think of who he could’ve been with that night.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>No, not Cleo, not any hot broad, no. No, instead, his mind always drifts back to the one and only Ponce de Leon. Obviously; they were best friends. However, Jack just wanted him… back. He wanted to know if Ponce would have said yes to going to prom with him, if they would have shared a dance despite being in front of everyone. All those judging high school eyes on them. Jack wouldn’t have cared, though. All he would’ve paid attention to would’ve been Ponce and his dumb, charming smile. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Maybe they could’ve been more than friends. JFK was always a bit bicurious, despite acting like a total ladies man. And he was! But that’s not all he wanted to be. He wanted a male lover, he wanted to be held by equally strong arms, and listen to him ramble about his feelings, and not have to worry about indulging in the toxic masculinity that he finds himself compensating for when he’s in the bedroom with women. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Really, that’s all that is, right? No one has called him out for sleeping around, since no one saw anything inherently wrong with it, but he knew what was really up. He knew he was bicurious, and something inside of him was telling him to suppress all of those feelings, and to indulge in the “proper” things that boys his age do; play around with girls. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He knew his dads would be over the moon if he was to tell them about any of this, but he never brought himself to. Mostly because he didn’t want to disappoint them if he didn’t present a boyfriend right on spot. Because no, he couldn’t see himself sleeping with someone like… Abe. Or Gandhi. Or even the hottest guy on campus. No, he just wanted Ponce. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And now Ponce was gone. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>So he missed his chance, he supposed. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And Joan was the only one who knew what was up.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Granted, she didn’t know anything about how Jack truly felt about it all, meaning she was unaware of his crush on Ponce, but she knew about his bicuriousity. He opened up to her quite a bit, and she knew she wasn’t like other girls he knew. Yeah, they hooked up. But after that they actually had a talk about it all, and how maybe eventually he would be emotionally available for her. Of course, Joan said everything was fine, and that she would still be there for him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She knew he was for sure distraught about the death of his best friend. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She and Jack were supposed to hang out at her place one night, but he didn’t show up. They usually have game nights, and play board games and whatnot,sometimes inviting other people, but that night he was a no-show. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Same thing happened the next few planned nights. The first was scheduled a couple nights later, for them to throw a party together, and everyone showed up except JFK. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>That’s when he stopped answering phone calls, and when Joan couldn’t get a hold of him at all, she went around asking their friends if they had heard anything from him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A ‘no’ from Abe.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A ‘no’ from Gandhi.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A ‘no, not recently’ from Van Gogh.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Even a ‘no’ from Cleo.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It was a Friday night, and Joan knew something was wrong. Jack was usually calling EVERYONE on Fridays, talking about how he always wanted to throw a party. Of course, their friends always talked him down, because his dads wouldn't be fond of their home being thrashed. Not to mention Scudworth always came. That was so weird.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Joan grabbed the house phone and dialed the jock’s number again, for the fifth time that day. They were on winter break, so they didn’t have any reason to be at school. Therefore, Joan hadn’t actually seen the guy in a couple weeks. She shared a couple calls with him, and he usually sounded very defeated, very sad and remorseful. He wasn’t the normal JFK. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>After three more missed calls over the hour, Joan decided that she should just wait a bit. It was only 8PM on a Friday night, maybe he and his dads were watching a movie? Maybe he was out with someone? A date?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>No, he would’ve told Joan about this. They were friends for nearly as long as him and Ponce, he tells her nearly everything.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She sat on the living room couch, looking around Cleo’s house. Cleo and her mom were out shopping somewhere, and Toots was in the back room, looking for some old records. Joan let out a sad sigh. Her friend was sad, she knew he had to be. She just suppressed the feeling of urgency and closed her eyes, breathing deep.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The next time she opened her eyes, it was to a loud ring coming from the phone, and she shot up from the couch after realizing what that could have meant. However, when she reached the phone, the ringing was already gone. Desperate, she held the phone to her ear.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“JFK? Jack? John!” She called, a bit frantic. Joan was one of those people to worry about her close friends when they don’t respond for a while. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She slammed the phone down onto the switch hook, and grabbed her coat before heading out of the house. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Toots! I’m going to JFK’s house!” She just realized how dark it had gotten. She had no idea what time it was, so she glanced at the clock before heading out the door; 12am. Why had she fallen asleep so easily? What if he had called before then? No no, she would’ve heard it. Or Toots would have told her. Yes.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She closed the door behind her, and ignored the fact that it was snowing outside and she just had sock on. She was sick to her stomach, because this is the longest JFK had gone without talking to anyone. Even Cleo had expressed her worries to her the other day. And for Cleo to share her emotions in a realistic way? That meant something really bothered her. She and Joan had gotten closer, but even then Cleo didn’t talk about serious stuff with Joan. Yet.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Joan knew it was ridiculous to worry about a friend so much, but JFK was closer than that. He actually cared for her, so she cared for him. It was a system that she would never break. Usually he called her about four times a day if they couldn’t see each other, sometimes more, just to tell her stuff that has happened throughout the day. You can imagine how distraught she was when he didn’t even call her once last week. And now this week. They were going to hang out during winter break, but heer she was, running down the snowy roads in socks to get to her friend’s house. Thankfully, they were rather close to each other, so Joan didn’t have to go too far, maybe a few blocks. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Joan felt her face get colder and colder as the snow ran into her, and she pulled her coat close to her in the front as she approached Jack’s house. No one would probably be awake except him, if it was him that called her. Either way, she was there, and she was going to wake him up if he was sleeping. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She flexed her fingers, keeping them as warm as possible by breathing on them while coming up to Jack’s bedroom window. The curtains were pulled over the glass, and she couldn’t see inside. So Joan opened the window herself, slowly, in case Jack were to freak out. Once it was fully open, she jumped onto the ledge, moving herself through the frame. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Her feet felt the ground, and landed on it, making a clean, quiet entry. It was dark inside when she pulled the curtains off of her, but there was one candle that was lit on Jack’s bedside table. The bed was messy, sheets and blankets tossed around and pillows not at the front of the bed. But wasn’t found in those sheets.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“John?” She whispered, stalking around. She made her way around the bed, and that’s where Jack was found, collapsed on the floor in pajama pants and a long t-shirt. His hair was unkempt, and glasses of water and plates of food were left next to his door. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Jack? What the hell are you doing on the floor?” Joan asked, rushing over to him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s… nicer here. I can feel the breeze coming from the window. It makes me think of…” He closed his eyes.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“There is no breeze, Jack. The window was closed, I had to open it.” Joan placed her hands on his side gently, as if saying she was here for him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh. Funny.” He laughed to himself, the laugh turning into a sob. She grabbed him, picking him up and pulling him into her arms as she sat on the floor of his bedroom. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He cried into her shoulder, shaking as he drew in jagged breaths. This went on unbroken for quite a few minutes, and Joan didn’t complain. She couldn’t. She knew how it could be. Obviously, Jack had just lost a dear friend very recently.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I-I just… can’t, uh, bring myself to stop thinking about ol’ Ponce-O. I mean, I have him tattooed on my arm! It feels like he’s here but he isn't. He never is and never will be anymore.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Joan nodded, holding JFK close to her, not faltering her grip.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Joanie I… never got to tell him how I really felt about him. You know? It all happened so fast it seemed. You know a guy for years and years and then he gets murdered in cold blood by litter. It hurts.” Jack cried. “I just want him back. I want him back, Joan.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Joan hummed, rocking slightly as the boy in her arms sucked in all the air he could get, letting it out in horrid sobs that filled the room. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Why’d you, um, come?” He asked quietly after crying for a bit.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You dialed me, even for a moment. So I figured you needed me. No one just calls and then hangs up after the first ring unless they want attention.” She meant that with love, but she knew how Jack got his attention. He was always successful.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Y-You’re so cold but warm at the same time.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah well,” Joan spoke softly. “I ran through the snow in socks.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Why? </span>
  </em>
  <span>That’s horrible.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s what I’ll do for you, Jack.” Joan said gently. “You feel cold too.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah, but I’m fine.” His voice was so weak and quiet, with a bit of a raspy sound to it. “You, er, coulda caught a cold. Or somethin’.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I think-” Joan didn’t finish her thought. She knew Jack was very obviously sick; he looked and sounded the part. Not to mention the piles of food at his door. She didn’t want to think about the pills on his bedside dresser, either.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I-I thought it would be better… to be with him again. To forget all this. To just… be with him again. Because that’s what I really want.” Jack said in a trembling voice.  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Jack…”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I know it’s stupid. I didn’t do anything. I just… thought about it. It’s so… hard, Joanie. It’s s-so… hard…” He buried his face in her neck again, and he began to sob quietly. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Joan found herself shifting to a more comfortable sitting position, in which Jack was solely propped up by her; all his weight was on her so it would do her good to get in a place where she didn’t have to falter at all. She wanted to hold him. To be here for him. She knew if her hands were to drop and her arms went loose, so would JFK, and he would fall from her embrace in an instant. Then again, he had a death grip on the back of her coat, so maybe not. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I-I started to, um, think about you. And our other friends. And about how I feel. Why would I put my own grievances on our pals? They would feel just like I do. I couldn’t do that to ‘em.” He shook his head. “‘Specially you, Joanie. You make it just a bit easier.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Joan smiled at that, and when JFK looked to her for the first time, she swept his sweaty hair from his forehead and gave it a kiss. He flinched at the sudden contact.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Your lips! They’re cold as ice,” Jack commented, grabbing her face.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Like I said… snow?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh… it’s snowing? Can we go out and see it? Maybe sit in it?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I can’t let you do that. How about we get some sleep, and maybe drink some water?” Joan suggested. </span>
</p>
<p><span>When JFK didn’t give an answer, she moved a bit, and his grip on her</span> <span>coat tightened.</span></p>
<p>
  <span>“C’mon, Jack. The floor probably isn’t the best place for you.” Joan lifted him up as she rose, and held him steady as she moved him over to the bed. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She walked over to the dresser with the glasses of water on them, and grabbed the one that was the coldest, bringing it over to her friend. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She handed it to him and sat next to him on the bed, taking his shaky hand in her’s. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hey uh, Joan? C-could you stay? Er, with me? I won’t do anything stupid like that b-but the company-”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Of course, Jack.” Joan smiled, squeezing his hand. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>If it was just some random person, she would’ve said no. Hell, if it was some random person she wouldn’t even be here in the first place, let alone at 1am.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But it was Jack, and she loved him, whether it be interpreted as romantically or just as a friend. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>So when they went under the covers that night, with her coat tossed to the side, they didn’t do anything other than hold each other, with Joan’s hands roaming around JFK’s back to soothe him, and maybe some occasional sobs from he who was in her arms. But she knew she was successful when she heard his staggered breathing become not-so-staggered; JFK had finally fallen asleep somewhat peacefully, maybe for the first time in days.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
</body>
</html>